


Every Life Before My Eyes

by MeticulousMew



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Breakups, But it's going to end well, Child losing parent, Death, F/F, Falling Apart, Falling In Love, Falling Out of Love, Growing Up, I know MCD doesn't make you think that, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Lots of triggers here, Soldier death, Soulmates AU, Violence, War, this is actually a, this is going to be painful
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-17 14:58:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13661388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeticulousMew/pseuds/MeticulousMew
Summary: Lexa's just walked out on her life and her love and she isn't going back. But sometimes there are greater things at play and we have to save ourselves from... well, ourselves.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to "Better Man" by LBT and was struck with the idea of relationships falling apart because the people in them are being shitty toward each other, taking each other for granted and acting like assholes. It's a theme you don't really see in the Clarke and Lexa fandom, and that's probably because when they are in love and happy, it makes us feel like we can be in love and happy too. But the reality is that so many relationships fall apart because either person has lost sight of the love and value they place on each other. They've started to be unkind, stopped putting each other first, stopped trying to see things from each other's point of view. So I started this with the idea of taking that reality and adding a healing lens to it. I hope you guys like it.
> 
> This will have a happy ending, but not in the first chapter.
> 
> If you think I should have a TW in here that I've missed, please, please don't hesitate to let me know. It's a late night and I tried to catch everything, but I don't want anyone getting surprised by something especially painful because I failed to mention it.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this, Lexa. You’re better than this."

“I’m not.” Lexa zips up her motorcycle jacket and picks up her bag.

Clarke’s voice is pleading, scared. “Please. This isn’t you. The Lexa I know wouldn’t leave me like this.”

Lexa’s expression is neutral as she looks somewhere beyond Clarke’s shoulder, unwilling to make eye contact.

“We are what we are.”

Clarke begins to break as Lexa shoulders her backpack. She pulls a couple $100 bills out of her wallet, thrusts them toward Clarke. She refuses to acknowledge them, wipes the tears from her eyes instead. Lexa sets the money on the counter and turns to the door.

"I hope that gets you by for now," she says quietly over her shoulder as she turns the handle.

“Please! Lexa!” A sob. She hears the sound of Clarke’s knees hitting the floor as the door clicks shut behind her. She takes a long, steadying breath before gathering herself to walk down the stairs of their apartment to the motorcycle waiting outside.

The night is cold – bitterly – and she knows the roads are probably covered in ice. She knows she shouldn’t be pulling on her gloves or starting the engine as she mounts the bike. She feels it roar to life between her legs and lets it idle for a moment with the choke full on.

She knows she can’t do this.

She knows she isn’t good enough.

She knows she never will be.

She kicks back the stand and lowers the choke as she pulls out of the parking lot, sans helmet, hair flipping around her face as she picks up speed. The icy air is unforgiving, it chafes against her lips and eyelids. The cold burns everywhere it touches and within seconds, her body is on fire in parts, completely numb in others. She rapidly blinks away the moisture that keeps welling up in her eyes, leaving frozen trails down her cheeks.

The night is dark, and when she gets far enough out of the city, the lack of streetlights leaves her in almost total darkness. The highway winds and curves dangerously; her heart hammers in her chest and her breath is coming in short gasps. She barely registers the way the headlight is flickering dangerously dim on her old motorcycle.

She can’t _do_ this.

She isn’t a good person.

She was pre-wired to be who she is and there’s nothing that she or Clarke or Anya or anyone can do to make her a better person. Leaving is what the Woods do.

Her mom left her for heroin. Her dad left before she was born. Her grandmother left her at an orphanage.

Leaving is in her DNA.

At first she doesn’t even register that her headlight has died. The darkness that consumes her vision feels… appropriate. She tries to use her brakes but she just slides on the icy pavement. The ground drops out from under her as she misses the turn that she couldn’t see coming. The embankment is deep and the ground is hard, but not as hard as the tree she slams into. The darkness consumes her as she

 

fades

 

 

to

 

 

 

black

 

 

 

 

\------

The ringing in her ears slowly dissipates as she regains consciousness. She blinks her eyes open and squints as she takes in the brightness of her surroundings. She’s standing in a field of tall grass and wildflowers. The sun is high in the sky and there are mountains surrounding her. There is a familiar figure walking toward her. She looks into green eyes that she usually tries to avoid in the mirror every morning. They are hers, but different. They are confident. They are strong.  
She takes in the features of her own face, her own body. The moment is surreal, and she doesn’t speak as she takes it all in.

Finally, the other her stops in front of her and gives her a reassuring smile.

“Alexandria.”

Her own voice sounds strange in her ears.

“Have I died?”

The Other Lexa shakes her head.

“Not exactly.” She gestures for Lexa to walk with her. The fall into step with one another on some unseen path toward the hills.

“Your heart is heavy.”

Lexa feels a tear escape her eye and quickly wipes it away.

“My life was a failure.”

“Was it?”

“I’ve hurt everyone I’ve loved. I’m a shit human.”

“Why do you suppose that is?”

Lexa huffs and wipes her face with her sleeve.

“Because deep inside I'm an awful, useless person.”

The Other Lexa pauses and looks her in her eyes.

“You're hardwired to be that way?”

Lexa shrugs, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. “Yeah, I guess. I just fuck it all up. It’s all I know how to do. It’s all I can do.”

The Other Lexa begins walking again and, for lack of a reason not to, Lexa continues walking with her.

After a moment of silence, The Other Lexa speaks again.

“Alexandria, you have achieved love, joy and greatness in many lifetimes. You’ve gotten a little lost along the way, lately, and you're here because I think it’s time to refresh your memory.”

“What are you talking ab-“

\-----

“Stop it! AHH!!”

Clarke runs around the bed as Lexa chases her and tackles her around the waist.

“ALEX ROSE! YOU LET GO OF ME RIGHT NOW!”

Clarke dissolves into a fit of giggles as Lexa keeps her pinned and tickles her mercilessly.

“Oh my god! Stop it!” more giggles.

Lexa is laughing too, and when Clarke squirms just right, finds herself discarded onto the floor with a thunk.

“Oh! Honey! Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry!”

Lexa rubs her head as Clarke kneels next to her and starts patting her down. The concern etched in her face melts Lexa’s heart and she reaches up to cup Clarke’s face in both of hers.

“You’ve got to stop acting like a teenager-“

Lexa pulls her down and their lips meet in the tenderest of kisses, their lips just barely parting and their warm breath mingling together. Clarke has a bright smile on her face as she sits back up and helps Lexa to her feet.

Lexa tucks errant strands of graying hair behind the other woman’s ear. “You are so, so beautiful, Clarke.”

She drinks in the face before her, noting the laughter lines that have etched around the eyes, the years of a hard and beautiful life leaving their mark in the once youthful planes of her cheeks, her neck. She is overcome with emotion and she pulls the aging woman into a tight embrace.

“I love you more than life,” she whispers fiercely. 

\-----

“Mommy! Mom!”

Lexa turns just in time to feel tiny arms wrap around her knees and she feels a sad smile spread across her face.

“Where Mommy C?”

Lexa squats down and lifts the child into her arms. She brushes soft golden curls out of the three-year-old’s face and swallows back emotion as she wills the tears out of her voice.

“Mommy C is sleeping with the stars now, baby. Remember what Mommy told you?”

“I want Mommy C wake up and come back here Mommy. Stars don’t need Mommy C. I need Mommy C”

Lexa pulls the head to her chest as tiny arms snake around her neck. She rubs the tiny back and thinks of the moment she first held this beautiful child in her arms. How much she looked like Clarke. How Clarke’s face glowed with joy and pride, watching them together. How Clarke kissed her and called her the most beautiful mother in the world.

“I know, baby. I want Mommy C to come back too.”

“Mommy C come back tomorrow?”

“No, baby.” Lexa chokes out.

“Someday… someday we’ll go to the stars with Mommy C. But for now it’s just you and me, Abby.”

The little girl leans back and puts her hands on either of Lexa’s cheeks, looking her full in the eyes with a very serious expression.

“I want go to the stars _today_  Mommy. Go get Mommy C.”

Lexa’s heart clenches tightly and she can’t stop the tear from sliding down her cheek.

“Me too, baby…”

\-----

Lexa leans her gun against the wall and drops onto the floor next to the tired soldiers. Her own face mirrors the defeated expressions in their eyes. This cover isn’t going to last long. They’re hemmed in and they know it’s only a matter of moments before it’s all over. She looks from Anya, to Lincoln, to Gustus. All good soldiers. Her family, her closest friends; they’re all that’s left of her squad. They’ve fought bravely and fiercely, but it isn’t enough to make it _home_. At least they’ve accomplished their mission. They’ll die tonight knowing their sacrifice has turned the tide of the war. It's more than most soldiers get.

Anya holds a wrinkled picture in her hands. Lexa knows it’s a shot she’d taken of Anya and Raven at their wedding. She chuckles as the memory washes over her.

They had hired a team of photographers (at great expense) for the wedding because Raven had insisted “It’s my day, damnit, and I want to make sure we get my best side!” and Anya was nothing if not indulgent where Raven was concerned.

But the best photo of the day had come when Lexa had spied the two of them squirrelled away behind some dumpsters, trying to get a moment alone. Raven's dress was splayed all around her and she had a cigarette between her lips. Her arms were resting on Anya’s shoulders and she wore a soft, playful expression on her face. Anya, looking dapper in her tux, had her arms around Raven’s waist and was looking at her with so much love and raw emotion that Lexa had felt herself choke up. She’d snapped a photo with her phone then slipped away, so as not to ruin the couple’s beautiful moment.

She’d never mentioned it, but on their one-year anniversary had framed the photo and given it to them as a gift.

Raven had socked her in the arm and yelled “Why didn’t you show me this one!! You know all my wedding pictures were all shit!” (they weren't). But Anya had looked at Lexa with something unnamable in her eyes. Lexa had captured the essence of their relationship in a single photo, and Anya, who made a rule of not letting anyone see her emotions, had crossed the room to wrap Lexa in a tight embrace.

Anya looks up at her now and they share a not-quite-smile, not having to use words to convey what they feel. It's like that with Anya.

Lexa unbuttons the top few buttons of her uniform and reaches inside the sweat and dirt-caked material to pull out the letter that she keeps near her heart, always.

“Are you sure you want to read that?” Anya leans forward, her tone cautious.

Lexa smiles sadly and feels the lump rise in her chest, the familiar sting in her eye letting her know that tears would have come if she weren’t so dehydrated.  
“It’s okay.” She says softly. “It’s all I have left of her. I want to be with her in the end.”

Lincoln and Gustus both have wary looks on their faces and they wordlessly huddle closer to Lexa. Their guns are abandoned around the room, long since out of ammunition. The building rattles as the bombs get closer. They know it won’t be long now.

Lexa unfolds the single sheet of lined paper that she has already committed to memory. She runs her fingers down the swooped handwriting, not reading - just feeling, trying to reach through time and distance and  _life_ to find the connection that she has craved for so long. She closes her eyes and lets her mind roll back to soft skin and playful blue eyes. The building shakes again and they feel the ground begin to crumble under them. The group huddles tighter and links arms. As the building explodes and collapses around and on top of them, Lexa holds firmly to the memories that sustained her through the worst of times. Blond hair, carefree laughter, sweet kisses and warm whispers caress her as she falls into the darkness, landing among the stars on the other side of the world.

 

A piece of lined paper flutters to the ground on top of the flaming wreckage of the once-proud high rise. The swooped handwriting is stained with red and smears on the ground. Flames lick against the edges and begin to consume the words that wrought so much pain but provided so much solace.

> _Lexa,_
> 
> _I am so, so, unspeakably proud of you, to call you mine and to tell people who you are and what you’ve done. You’re so incredible, my love. You’re my hero, my heart, the reason I survived this shitty civil war and the reason I want to get up every morning even though our country probably won’t be here tomorrow._
> 
> _But, babe, this is bigger than what we want. I know that being a soldier and saving lives is everything to you._   _As much as I want to,_ _I can’t ask you to choose between me and your sense of responsibility, so I’m not going to. Your bravery, courage and strength will make an immeasurable difference in the war and that's bigger than either of us. To take you away from that would be selfish. So I’m not giving you a choice._
> 
> _I’m always going to be proud of you. I’m always going to love you more deeply than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything. I’m always going to want you, to need you, to miss you. But I’m letting you go. Please take my love with you. Maybe someday the war will end and you'll come home to find me waiting for you_ _._
> 
> _But if you choose to give your life for our country, know that I’ll love you and that I’ll understand why you couldn’t come home._
> 
> _All my love,_
> 
> _C_

 

\-----

Lexa chokes back a sob as she jerks back, falling to the floor. The Other Lexa looks at her with sad eyes. She looks around, trying to get her bearings. They’re on the stage of a massive stadium, with seats surrounding them in all directions. The Other Lexa extends a hand and helps Lexa to her feet.

“What the _fuck_ was that?”

The sound echoes and reverberates around her in the empty stadium.

 

 _The fuck_  
_Was that the fuck_  
_What the_  
_The fuck what the_  
_Was that_

 

“You, Alexandria. In other lives, other incarnations.”

“Why was there so much pain? Why was everyone dying? Why-“

“You have experienced far more in your lifetimes than anything I've shown you. You're stronger than you think."

“This is so fucked up. Why… why are you showing me all of this? Am I in Hell? Are you trying to torture me? I thought that the Christians' idea of burning in a lake of fire was a pretty fucked up way to spend eternity, but it sounds like a _cakewalk_ compared to this. This is the worst thing I could possibly imagine.”

She rubs a shaking hand across the tightness in her chest and turns away from The Other Lexa. “You’re cruel.”

The Other Lexa smiles sadly.

“You have much to learn, Alexandria, and we don’t have much time. I know this is painful, but we are far from done. Come, we must continue on.”

Lexa feels a hand on her shoulder and everything goes white.

\--------


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From heartbreak to first love, Lexa still has much to learn on her journey to healing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I channelled my own heartbreak for this one - the way it felt both during and after. The song "Here Comes Goodbye" by Rascal Flatts is what put me in the mood to write this.
> 
> This is going to hurt before it gets better.

The slamming of the bedroom door reverberates throughout the entire house and Lexa _feels_ it in her core. She doesn’t hesitate before flinging the door back open and running after her.

“Clarke! You don’t get to walk out on this conversation!” she yells.

“No, Lexa!” Clarke yells back as she grabs her coat from the hook by the door. “You don’t get to dictate the terms of this discussion.”

“Then neither do you!” She yells, blocking the door to the garage.

Clarke’s face is all rage and steel when she stands toe-to-toe with her wife. “The hell I don’t,” she grits out. “Move your body or I’ll move it for you.”

Lexa searches the eyes in front of her for a sign of give, something beyond the anger. It’s not there. She feels a jolt of something shoot through her. Fear? Yes, that’s it. This isn't the same as every other time Clarke's walked out on a fight. She  _feels_ it.

“Clarke…” She whispers, tears welling up, unbidden, in her eyes.

Clarke scoffs. “Seriously, Lexa? Not a single tear for 10 years, not even at our son-” she swallows. “at Aden’s funeral, and _now_ you break them out? This is rich.”

“I…” Lexa falters. “Clarke, I love you.”

“Yeah, well, I love you too.” Hope blossoms in Lexa’s chest and is just as quickly extinguished when Clarke finishes, softer, “But I don’t think it’s enough anymore.”

“What?” Lexa breathes.

Not this. No. She knows Clarke is angry. Clarke has stormed out many times before. But never has she uttered those words. There was this… unspoken agreement or... understanding, of sorts, between them. They didn’t _say_ those things. They didn’t allude to them even, or hint at separation. Their relationship was far too important to them to ever threaten _that_. They’d both had too many people leave their lives and they weren’t going to let the ghost of that feeling come back to haunt them every time they had a fight.

“You don’t mean that.” Her voice is broken.

“Lexa, I-” a heavy breath escapes her throat and the bluster and rage dissipates all at once.

“We are _broken_ , Lexa, and we both know it.”

“No.”

“Babe, we haven’t had sex in two years. We don’t talk to each other except to fight. I can’t _remember_ the last time we spent time together doing something we enjoyed, just for the sake of enjoying it. We’re just surviving together, Lexa.

"Babe.

"I’m not happy anymore. Not even sometimes.

"And neither are you.”

A sob bubbles out of Lexa’s throat and her hand flies to her mouth, she squeezes her eyes shut _so_ tightly, hoping she can block out the knife that's ripping apart the seams of everything that means anything to her.

Clarke’s eyes well up with tears as she chokes over her next words.

“Shouldn’t life be about more than just _surviving_?”

And Lexa doesn’t just _break_.

She shatters into pieces and her body slides to the floor and she doesn’t see or hear anything. She recoils from the hand on her shoulder, curling her body into the fetal position with her hands behind her head. She doesn’t see the expression on Clarke’s face as she steps around her to open the door. Doesn’t hear the door shut, the car start, or the engine fading away into the night. She doesn’t feel anything.

 

\--------

 

“Look out!” The warning barely gives her enough time to jump out of the way as a motorcycle comes crashing to the ground exactly where she had been sitting. Thanks to the warning – and to a pair of hands that she now realizes had also grabbed her and pulled her back – she’s avoided serious injury.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” She bristles, about to defend herself, when she realizes that the words aren’t directed at her. A blonde woman, about her age, is angrily yelling at the biker (who is backing up hastily as she pushes her way into his personal space).

“You could have killed this woman. Do you even _realize_ that? Jesus!”

Lexa quickly climbs to her feet and places her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m okay, it’s okay.”

The blonde whirls around and starts checking her over. “Are you sure? I’m a doctor. Let me check you out.”

Lexa is pliant as she is led to a chair and the woman gives her a once over.

“Oh! You’re bleeding!”

“I am?” Lexa asks. Suddenly she feels it and she doesn’t know why she didn’t before. There’s a sharp pain in her back shoulder where she must have hit something when she was pulled to the ground.

She squeezes her eyes shut. “I’m haemophobic, I can’t-”

“Hey, it’s okay. Keep your eyes closed. What’s your name?”

“Lexa.” She grinds out.

“Lexa, hi, I’m Clarke, and you’re going to be okay. But I need you to do something for me, alright? Lexa?”

She nods, eyes still closed. She is pretty sure she can smell the blood and her stomach roils.

Clarke grabs her calves. “Lexa, I need you to tense your legs. Flex the muscles in them as hard as you can, and just hold them.”

Lexa tries.

“Good – now hold that for me. I’m going to remove my hands but you need to keep your legs flexed.”

Lexa nods as Clarke moves up her body and exposes her shoulder. She hears a sharp intake of breath and immediately forgets about her legs, relaxing them as the sense of panic rises up in her chest.

“How bad is it?!”

“You’re going to be fine.”

She stands up and holds out a hand to Lexa and helps her to her feet. “Come with me.” She leads Lexa away from the café she’d been sitting outside of. She’d been enjoying a coffee and the sunset before getting ready to board a tiny plane back to civilization, when the biker had fallen out of the sky. _No, that doesn’t make sense. Bikers don’t fall out of the sky_.

She looks at her shoulder but Clarke is there, she redirects her face away from the wound and smiles reassuringly as they continue walking down the street in the dusky evening light.

“Where are we going?” Lexa asks. “The hospital?”

“I’m afraid there are no hospitals for miles, but luckily for you I have my medical bag back at my room. I’m taking you there.”

Lexa starts to turn her head toward the shoulder and, once again, Clarke redirects her with gentle fingers. Lexa feels a little wobbly as she looks into blue, blue eyes. They seem worried.

“What are you doing in this part of South America anyway, Lexa? It sounds like you’re from far away… Australia?” She guesses.

Lexa nods.

“I work for the government.” _No, not supposed to say that_.

She stumbles as her vision goes spotty.

“I mean, I work for a b. A big. Um.” Her voice is breathy as she tries to latch onto her thoughts. She’s aware that she’s still walking but does not know where she is.

“We’re almost there Lexa, come on.”

She tries to take a few more steps, but can’t move her muscles. The last thing she registers is someone shouting very close to her ear.

“Alguien ayudeme! Ayudeme!”

 

When she wakes up, it’s dark. Very dark. She tries to sit up, but literally can’t see _anything._ She blinks her eyes rapidly several times but when nothing comes into focus, feels that familiar sense of panic begin to rise up in her chest.

“Hey, hey it’s okay, you’re safe.” The gravelly voice from before reaches her ears just before she feels a hand on hers.

“Where am I? Why can’t I see anything?”

“It’s okay. It’s just very, very dark in here. But Lexa, I need you to take a few breaths and try to be calm, okay? I’ll give you all the answers you want shortly.”

“Okay,” Lexa agrees.

“Okay,” Clarke says. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

She feels Clarke pull away, then there’s silence for a few minutes. She reaches around to feel her shoulder and a touch of nausea hits her belly as she comes in contact with a bandage. It’s large.

A few minutes later she hears the sound of footsteps and a faint glow begins to take shape at the edge of her vision. It gets closer and closer until the area is illuminated and she can see that Clarke is carrying some kind of lantern. They appear to be in some kind of underground tunnel that’s about 12 feet across, and she is laying in a cot on the ground, up against one wall. Warning bells are sounding in her head.

“What’s going on? What is this?”

Clarke sits down next to her. “Lexa, why are you in Argentina? Which government do you work for?” She hands her a bottle of water. Lexa gives her a suspicious look, but takes it.

“I don’t work for a government. What are you talking about? I’m just here on vacation. And I need to get going – my flight leaves at 8:00.”

Clarke laughs humorlessly. “Well, your flight left a week ago. You’ve been in and out of a fever for days. Just broke this morning.”

“What?!”

“And I know you’re not a civilian – whatever reason you’re here, someone definitely wanted you dead. I pulled a bullet out of your shoulder that was laced with something pretty nasty. I’m honestly a little surprised you made it through.”

Lexa groans and lays her head back down on the cot.

“Why are YOU in Argentina, Doc?”

Clarke sighs heavily next to her. “I like to be where the action is, I guess. The situation here has been tense for a while, but when we heard that civil war was on the verge of breaking out, I wanted to get down here before access became impossible. I sent down some supplies and a few of us all came down together, waiting to see what happened when the peace talks broke down.”

“Weren’t the peace talks supposed to take place the day after I left?”

“Yep.”

“…and?”

“And we’re in a tunnel underground, Lexa.” Clarke replies drolly.

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“So you said you came down here with others? Other doctors?”

Clarke’s face falls, slightly.

“Yes, some very close friends. Bellamy, Finn and Raven. We’ve been through a lot of conflict zones together.”

Lexa looks around, noting there is only one other cot besides hers.

She doesn’t want to ask, but… “Where… are they?”

Clarke takes a deep breath and blows it out forcefully as she looks around the room.

“I have… _no_ idea. We were supposed to rendezvous here if fighting broke out, but they never showed. Now...”

Lexa sits up fully and looks at Clarke.

“What’s going on up there?”

“War. I woke up early about five days ago and was wandering around the town, wondering where everyone had gone, when the first bomb hit. It was close. I’d already scoped out this tunnel – it’s abandoned, we’d gotten intel on it from a contact in the American government – and we'd stashed all of our medical supplies here. I ran back to the hotel, threw you over my shoulder and ran like hell.”

“You _carried_ me?”

Clarke flexes her muscles in the dark with a smile. “Crossfit and adrenaline.”

Lexa stares out into the darkness.

“So, Lexa, your turn. You’ve got my story, what’s yours? And honestly, if you can’t tell me about your secret government business, at least tell me that you’re important enough for them to extract you. You need real medical care.”

“I’m…” Lexa sighs. “No one is coming.”

“I was hoping you weren’t going to say that.”

Lexa shrugs. She can't say anything about why she is there, so she changes the subject.

“Have you gone above ground yet?”

“Tried.”

Lexa waits.

“The entrance to the tunnel is caved in. Has been for three days. I’ve been trying everything I can think of to get us out of here, but…”

And Lexa finally gets it. Clarke’s defeated expression, the fact that Clarke isn’t _doing_ anything, the dead silence all around them. They aren’t going to make it out of here.

She reaches out and places a hand over Clarke’s and notes the tremble that she finds there. She can’t think of any words. There aren’t really any that don’t sound foolish to her ears, like “It’s going to be okay” or “don’t be afraid.” How do you comfort someone when the situation is hopeless?

So instead, she squeezes the hand she’s holding and says “Thank you for saving my life.”

Clarke scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, sure. You might have stood a better chance if I’d left you above ground.”

“Maybe.” Lexa acknowledges. “But we are here, now, and nothing will change how we got here. You did the right thing in this situation and you have my gratitude.”

“Yeah. Well. Now we’re just two strangers in a cave together, waiting to die. So your gratitude doesn’t get us much.”

“Perhaps not. But you have it, nonetheless.”

Lexa turns fully to Clarke and makes firm eye contact.

“Anyway, there is no reason to die as strangers. My name is Alexandria Woods, I was born in Australia, and I am an American spy.”

 

\---------

 

She cannot remember ever being this excited in her whole entire life, not _ever_.

“Hurry _UP_ daddy!” She yells to the big, bearded man moving far too slowly for her satisfaction.

“Slow down, Lexy baby. Daddy isn’t as fast as you are.”

“Daaaaad,” she whines. “I don’t want to be late!” She shifts the Wonder Woman backpack on her shoulders and hears her new pencil case rattle around inside. Her dad finally catches up and takes her small hand in his large one, and together they round the corner that brings the elementary school into sight.

Lexa can’t even STAND it and she tugs on her father’s arm furiously as they make their way down to the school and then to Lexa’s classroom. Her teacher is standing outside, greeting all of the parents and kids as they arrive for the first day of school.

“Mr Woods! Nice to see you again!” The tall man with a bearded face and kind eyes leans down and holds his hand out to Lexa’s. “You must be Lexa,” He smiles. Lexa suddenly feels shy. She grabs onto her father’s leg as she puts her hand in the teacher’s, nodding.

“Nice to meet you Lexa. I’m Mr. Kane. Why don’t you go on inside and try to find your desk. Your name is on it – do you know how to spell it?”

Lexa nods proudly and looks at her dad for a second. He nods to the classroom with a smile. “I’ll see you after school, sweetie.”

“Bye dad!” She hollers as she makes her way into the classroom. She finds her seat in the front row, smack dab in the center of the classroom. There’s another girl sitting at the desk beside Lexa’s, and she smiles at her.

“Hi, I’m Clarke!”

Lexa looks at her blue eyes and her own widen. “Wow, you have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen before Clarke!” It tumbles out of her mouth so fast that all the words run together. Clarke doesn’t miss a beat.

“Thanks, my mom says their hers but she has her own ones, so I’m just gonna keep them. I like your backpack.”

Lexa beams proudly and takes it off to give Clarke a better look.

 

When Gustus comes to pick up his 5 year-old daughter from kindergarten at the end of the day, he finds her holding hands with a fierce-looking little blonde girl, whispering together on the benches near the classroom entrance.

“DADDY!” Lexa yells, dragging the little girl with her as she runs up to him.

“Daddy this is Clarke. She’s my friend. We’re gonna get married when we get old.”

Gustus looks up to the teacher, amusement in his eyes. “Oh really now?”

Mr. Kane approaches with a tentative smile. “They’ve been attached at the hip since the moment they met today. The marriage thing is new, though. Not sure where that one came from.”

Gustus laughed. “We were at my sister’s wedding last weekend – her and her wife are Lexa’s favorite aunts. I’m sure that had something to do with where they got the idea.”

Gustus tries to pick Lexa up so they can go, but she shakes her head and wraps her arms around Clarke.

“We can’t leave without Clarke, Daddy.”

He shakes his head. “Well, maybe we can wait until her parents get here at least. Go ahead and have a seat, sweet heart."

“These tight friendships usually run their course in a few weeks,” said Mr Kane with a reassuring grin. “I’m sure you’ll have an easier time getting out the door soon.”

 

Mr. Kane couldn’t have been more wrong.

 

\---------

 

Lexa is more prepared for it this time when she snaps back to herself. The Other Lexa is leaning across from her on a boulder, a leg casually crossed over the other. They are at the top of a mountain and the sun is shining brightly down on them. 

She watches this other version of herself lean back and tilt her head toward the sun.

"Who was the little girl?"

The Other Lexa cracks an eye and raises an eyebrow in her direction.

_Ok._

Lexa takes breath. "Why do I feel like I... remember that happening? I can _remember_ that little girl. That man."

"That's your father."

Lexa feels like a fist has been leveled in her gut. 

"He has loved you in many lifetimes. He has loved you in yours."

"No, I never knew my father. He left, he... he didn't care."

The Other Lexa cocks her head to the side and looks.

"Sometimes we are afraid that the truth will hurt us, so we believe a lie. And we believe it for so long and so intensely that we don't know what to do when faced with the truth."

Lexa shakes her head. "What about Clarke leaving me? I felt that... heartbreak. I can still feel it."

"You've broken each other's hearts many, many times."

"Why would you show me that?"

"So you'll see that they mend again."

"You didn't show me the mending bit."

"You remember it."

Lexa opens her mouth to protest, but stops. She  _does_  remember it. Not distinctly. But she remembers the feeling of being okay after many sleepless nights, of waking up with hope in her heart again, of going out with friends for the first time in a long time and finding that she still knows how to laugh, to have fun. She remembers that she can find love again, even if it's not the same. That her eyes are just open wider, that she's more cautious, but that she  _can_  open her heart again, that there are still pieces she can give away.

When the Other Lexa reaches out her hand, Lexa meets it with her own.

 

\---------


End file.
